


Finnigan's Snake

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bestiality, Comedy, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-05
Updated: 2006-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Take one curmudgeonly Severus Snape, angry that the Order has sent an unwanted guest to 'help' him at his isolated potions lab, and add one untested, experimental potion, subsequently ingested by said Potions master. The result? Anything but the ordinary, of course. A fanciful, smutty story, not for those who suffer from ophidiophobia. ;)





	Finnigan's Snake

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: For Celandine, who requested Snape, a potion gone wrong, and smut — Merry Christmas!!

My exceeding gratitude to Fungus_Files for her astute and quick beta.

Apologies are extended to James Joyce. :)  


* * *

**Finnigan's Snake**

  
  
Severus Snape stared in disbelief at the apparition lounging in the doorframe. Surely the young man with an irritating grin had only appeared because Severus had accidentally inhaled too many mickleberry fumes?  
  
"Hello, Professor Snape," the phantasm said, his chipper brogue bouncing harmlessly off Severus' ill temper. "Working on a memory restorative, eh?"  
  
With a deep breath, Severus mentally counted backwards from ten to one in Gothic. The figure continued to stand before him, sniffing and raising his eyebrows in intrigue.  
  
"How in hell's harpies did you get here?" Severus seethed at last. "This house is warded, unplottable-"  
  
"Shacklebolt sent me."  
  
Severus' eyes narrowed to slits. "I don't believe you."  
  
"You're working on poisons and antidotes and Merlin knows what else, and the Order figured that two experts were better - and faster - than one." The man's hazel eyes shone with delight as Severus fumed, forcing himself to count silently from fifty-seven to seventy in Goblin. Ukranian dialect.  
  
"Seamus Finnigan, since when have you been an expert in anything other than being as upredictable and as hazardous as the Weasley twins?"  
  
Seamus turned suddenly serious, his change in demeanour so unexpected that Severus was startled enough to consider the option that Finnigan hadn't arrived by some devious Death Eater plot. It was disconcerting to see his former pupil and now, apparently, a member of the Order, look so focused.  
  
"Since Death Eaters killed me mam," Finnigan said, the dark expression on his face accompanying the fury behind his words. "And poisoned me; nearly did me in. Even now, I can't see colours at all."  
  
Severus felt little pity for Finnigan; everyone had had someone close to them killed one way or another as the War had dragged on.  
  
"How earth can you be an expert in Potions if you can't even see when a simple dreaming draught turns lilac?" Severus sneered.  
  
"Smell." Finnigan wriggled his nose in a manner disturbingly evocative of a rabbit. "Death Eaters probably didn't expect that. I can tell instantly if something's off even by a fraction. Any of the ingredients. Bit nightmarish, really. So I've been sent here to help you."  
  
He smiled, his anger having passed on as quickly as it had arrived.  
  
Severus remained livid. "I don't want help," he snapped, his own keen olfactory senses noticing that his work now smelled like rotten eggs due to this interruption. "Go back to Headquarters. Tell Shacklebolt and Lupin and whoever else might have been behind this ridiculous charade that I'm progressing far more rapidly than I had expected, and I'll send a report-"  
  
"Sorry about your cauldron," Finnigan said, not looking at all regretful.  
  
"What?!"  
  
Milliseconds too late, with a wrench in his innards honed from decades of alchemical experimentations, Severus whipped around to see his fine pewter cauldron rippling as though he were looking at it underwater. With a sickening gurgling sound, it collapsed in on itself, emitting a horrible vapour that hovered around the ruined metal. He stared at the debacle on his workbench before turning back to the interloper. Severus' hands were tightly balled fists.  
  
"Go back _immediately_ ," he hissed at Finnigan, who now appeared to be genuinely apologetic. He wished that he were able to loom over the Irishman, but Finnigan was easily his height. Damn the whelps and their dratted growth spurts. "As I said before, I don't need assistance, least of all from some accident-provoking imbecile like you."  
  
"Sorry Professor Snape, for you and me both, but I stay," Finnigan replied. "McGonagall's orders, actually." He pulled his diminuative rucksack out of his trouser-pocket, then waved his wand at it, restoring it to regular size. "There's a war on. We all have to do things we don't want to."  
  
Blood pounded in Severus' ears. Hadn't he suffered enough indignity for at least a dozen lifetimes? He glared at the infuriating man, who had shed his jacket and began sniffing the air. Finnigan grimaced and, muttering, cast a short spell on himself.  
  
"It's too much for my poor nose," he explained, as though Severus, with his nuanced aural faculties, hadn't been able to hear the words. "Filtering charm. Otherwise it's unbearable, smelling so much, especially after your potion implo-"  
  
"Upstairs," Severus said, his scowl deepening the furrow between his brows. "You may sleep upstairs. Do not disturb me in my chambers if you value your life or sanity. There is some food in the pantry and a small village down the road. The local pub has a strong stout- I would recommend you go and have several pints. As I have the remains of a three-day experiment to analyse and regret, I ask that you make yourself scarce."  
  
From the innards of his bag, Finnigan unwrapped a half-empty packet of Coriander Crisps and began crunching loudly. "Right then," he said. "Off to the pub. I'll check on you when I get back. Tomorrow, you can show me what you've been getting up to, out here in the middle of nowhere."  
  
"Has no one bothered to read my reports?" Severus snapped.  
  
"Well, yes, of course," Finnigan replied, looking puzzled. "But notes are nothing compared to seeing and smelling and sampling the actual potions. That's why they sent me."  
  
A sneer rested comfortably on Severus' lips. "So you're going to test some of these, are you?"  
  
The young man shrugged before opening his mouth and pouring the remaining crisps and crumbs into it. After a few chews, he said, "I can smell if something's really off, but I'm with a master. And you're not supposed to be trying to kill me, leastways not while I'm here." His bright hazel eyes searched the room. "Where's the bin?"  
  
Severus stretched out his hand. "I will dispose of it," he said frostily. "Now leave. The pub calls. I need some time to adjust to the idea of having," he paused, appraising the the man before him, "you sharing my quarters."  
  
"I'll be back later. Town's Muggle?" The question was asked from under Finnigan's arm as he bent over his bag, searching for something.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Brilliant."  
  
Finnigan plopped onto the floor, kicked off his shoes and pulled on a pair of exquisite umber dragonskin boots in their stead. He grinned when he noticed Snape was staring at them.  
  
"Nice, aren't they?" Finnigan said, levering up from the floor and stomping the heels against the floor for emphasis.  
  
"Just. Go," Severus growled.  
  
With a bow and a wink, Seamus left the room, grabbing his jacket as he did so. Severus heard him whistling a buoyant tune as the front door slammed shut.  
  
"Circe's tits!" Severus swore. He dropped the crisp packet to the floor, grabbed his wand and cast _Incendio_ , delighting in the multi-coloured flames before they burned out. "Bloody Minerva," he added for good measure, storming into the kitchen and tapping a small portrait on the wall. After the picture opened outwards, he thrust his hand in to retrieve a clandestine bottle of Ogden's. He didn't even bother with a glass, drinking it straight, relishing the burn in his throat.  
  
"Fucking Order," he rumbled before taking another swig, and regretting it.  
  
Determined to get some more work done before Finnigan returned, Severus placed the bottle on the counter and went back into his laboratory. In a back corner, a cauldron sat above a green flame, a briny scent emanating from the viscous contents. Once ingested - and given its purpose, it was always administered surreptitiously - the potion rendered the witch or wizard unable to produce his or her Patronus. Severus had decided to modify the amount of _hyacinthus_ in an effort to lengthen the amount of time the Patronus was held impotent. While he was perfectly content to leave the actual logistics of how to slip the potion into the food or drink of the Death Eaters, his pride and integrity demanded that he test each of his modified potions. Personally.  
  
Slipping his hand into an interior pocket of his robes, Severus withdrew a rather plain silver spoon, unremarkable save its curlicue handle and the fact that said handle was spelled to straighten if placed near any life-threatening substance. He dipped it into the cauldron and scrutinised the contents before putting the spoon in his mouth and swallowing the salty liquid.  
  
_Vile_ , he conceded to himself as he felt the potion slide down his esophagus and seep into his body. An unfamiliar and startling sensation seized him as, with a shock, he suddenly realised what was happening. His spoon dropped to the floor. The room became silent save the sound of a dull blurping noise in a covered cauldron and the sibilant hissing of an exceedingly irate snake.

* * * * *

  
  
"Professor Snape?"  
  
Seamus had purposefully been far louder than he needed to when he returned to the cottage, not wanting to startle the curmudgeonly man. Why he cared, he wasn't sure, though he suspected that it had something to do with an irrational and staggering acknowledgement that he'd smelled _desire_ on the former Potions Master. Seamus was used to that; despite joining the War effort in earnest, he'd been able to bed a few good-looking blokes before and after his capture by the Death Eaters. He recognised the scent of lust from quite a distance, but he would never have suspected that Mr. I-Loathe-Gryffindors would find him attractive. It was very queer. So was the odour in the house, which, once he took off his self-imposed dampening spell, positively reeked.  
  
"Professor Snape!" Seamus tried again. Maybe the man had Apparated but, like almost all magic, it left a faint scented trail and there was nothing acrid in the air to indicate his leaving. Something transformative had happened, though. Wand at the ready, he walked carefully into the laboratory and began looking around. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he whirled around, a stunning spell on his lips.  
  
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed as a black snake defiantly slithered towards him. In an instant, Seamus pieced together the basics of what had happened while he'd been at the pub, enjoying what had indeed been a few very good stouts. "Um, Professor Snape?" he questioned, squatting down and trying not to blanch under the snake's angry, glittering gaze.  
  
The snake hissed in reply and Seamus just stared.  
  
"Merlin's balls," he said, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. "Messing about with your Patronus, were you?"  
  
The black head nodded, obviously furious despite its lack of facial expression.  
  
"Well, I'm no Parselmouth, so I guess our conversations will be rather one-sided until your potion wears off. You didn't mean to do this, or did you?"  
  
The snake vehemently shook its head from side to side, sending his tongue out repeatedly in irritation.  
  
"Fuck. I don't even know what snakes eat. You could probably use some water though, eh?"  
  
Snape-as-snake looked somehow mollified.  
  
"Right then."  
  
Seamus stood up, his knees cracking as he did. "Any idea how long this will last?" he asked over his shoulder. There was another indignant shake of the diamond-shaped head and Seamus let out a "humph" in acknowledgement. "Well, I don't have a problem with snakes, so you're welcome to sleep nearby if you need the heat."  
  
An angry hissing sound caused Seamus to rescind his offer. "Or maybe it would be better if I find a flat rock and I can put a heating charm on it."  
  
Snape seemed far happier with the second option. Seamus rummaged through the pantry to find a saucer and filled it with water before placing it on the floor. "Well, I'll just look for a rock then."  
  
Using his wand as a light, he walked around the cottage and found a decent-sized, rectangular stone. The snake — Snape, he reminded himself, chuckling at how ludicrous the evening had become — wasn't small. He locked the door behind him once back inside and was struck by an inappropriate desire to pet the creature. Snakeskin had fascinated him since he was a boy, recognising the sensuality of its slick, dry qualities many years before he had any real sense of his own erotic nature. Seamus overrode his impulse, however, as he was certain that Snape would not take kindly to any sort of physical overtures, whether in serpentine form or not. He cast a heating spell on the slab and put it next to the water.  
  
"Reckon I'll check out what you've been working on," Seamus said to the snake before ambling back over to the workroom. The potency of Snape's potions wreaked havoc on his senses, but he was able to make a tour of the room and evaluate Snape's progress. The cauldron in the back near the wall gave off a powerful scent of longevity and constance, mingled with a tangy smell that indicated physical change.  
  
"Bollocks," he muttered, turning to look at the snake who had coiled up on the warm stone. "You tried this, didn't you?" he called, jerking his thumb at the container. The snake unfurled halfway and nodded. "Reckon you'll be in that state for a while. Sorry."  
  
Presumably resigned, the snake sank back down into ropy coils. Seamus decided it would serve him well to go to bed; nothing could be done about Snape's condition tonight, and there were worse things than being stuck in the form of one's Patronus. Besides, Seamus was exhausted, having just completed a rough mission before being sent straight to this isolated shack.  
  
"Well, I'm off to bed," he said, waving at the snake, who didn't even bother to respond. Pointing his wand at his rucksack, he levitated it to follow him as he clomped up the stairs. Of all the scenarios that he'd contemplated when given the task to join Snape out in the middle of nowhere, this particular situation had never come to mind. After a quick wash-up at the sink, he cast a warming spell on the room and started a fire for good measure. Once stripped down to his boxers, he fished through his bag until he found his flask and took a swig. He cradled the metal as he sat down in front of the fire. Eyes unfocused, he stared at the flames, contemplating what it would be like to suddenly find himself as a raccoon for who knew how long.  
  
"At least my Patronus has fingers," he said thankfully, looking at his hands. He leaned against the foot of the bed for a few moments until his head snapped up. Apparently, he'd already begun to doze off. "Bed time, Seamus," he acknowledged, lowering the fire before crawling into the plain bed. The sheets were coarse but he was too tired to care. Seconds after he lay down, he was asleep.

* * *

  
  
Severus was cold. He tried to pull up his blanket when his sluggish mind reminded him that he had no hands. He voiced his frustration in a stream of irate hisses, but he felt no relief for having done so. He undulated his tail against the warm rock, but it wasn't enough heat. Instinct drove him out of the kitchen and up the stairs, sliding under his guest's door through a two-inch gap. His human mind continued its unceasing ruminations on the ingredients in the potion and what could have gone so wrong, even as he slithered up a bedpost and underneath the heavy woollen blanket, and coiled at Finnigan's feet, a sheet's layer from the man's skin.  
  
His reptilian brain registered extreme satisfaction with the new arrangement as Severus faded into sleep.

* * *

  
  
"BWAAAAUGH! Fuck! Oh- it's you, Snape. Bloody, bollocky hell."  
  
Severus smiled as broadly as his serpentine form would allow, flicking out his tongue in pleasure at the young man's outrage. After his initial shock, however, Severus was disquieted to discover that Finnigan really didn't have an aversion to snakes as he found himself dragged gently up the bed.  
  
"Gave me quite a fright, you sneaky bastard," Seamus said, beginning to stroke Snape's skin with tentative, but steady fingers.  
  
Despite his desire to do otherwise, Severus undulated against the warm fingerpads. His dignity in tatters, Severus allowed himself to enjoy being touched, something he normally guarded against. Not that there had ever been a queue of individuals desperate to feel him up, of course. A primal desire to slide down Finnigan's torso and curl up near the man's groin nearly overtook him, but the Severus element in him brutally suppressed the idea.  
  
"Ah, you like that," Finnigan said, sounding both smug and surprised. "Hope you'll remember that before you hex me sixteen ways from Sunday once you change back."  
  
Severus' traitorous form sought more attention from Finnigan's tender petting. He slinked closer, unfurling until he lay prone next to Seamus' nearly nude form, scales seeking the furnace-like warmth radiating from the man's skin. Severus was so overcome by the rapturous heat that he nearly missed the pleased sigh that escaped Finnigan's lips.  
  
Emboldened, and because Severus had found his former student to be distressingly attractive and most decidedly shaggable, he slid his tail slowly against Finnigan's boxers and the obvious arousal there. Another delicious needy gasp from Seamus and Severus nudged his tail between the strong legs, which Seamus opened shyly.  
  
"Um, Professor Snape, this is a bit pervy," he said, breathless. "That's all right, mind you. Oh Merlin," he moaned, moving his hand down Severus' side so he could thrust it under the waistband of his pants.  
  
Severus was highly aroused by the sensations he felt, sinuously curving up Finnigan's broad chest. He didn't really think he could have any sexual release but, surprisingly, hearing the young man's breathing speed up and knowing that Finnigan was very turned on because of the movements Severus was making was enough. For now, anyway; the potion couldn't last forever. Severus hadn't had the time or inclination to take a lover in ages, and his scruples weren't such that he'd let this opportunity be wasted. War could make for stranger bedfellows than he and the earnest Irishman.  
  
"Professor Snape? You're not doing this to have some big laugh about me later, are you?" Seamus' expression was guarded despite the flush in his cheeks. He'd stopped fisting his erection, and raised his head to give Severus a hard look. "Because I'll hex your snaky, Slytherin arse so fast you'll-" He paused and shuddered, biting down on his lower lip.  
  
Severus had begun licking at one of Seamus' taut nipples, hoping to get the point across that he was quite a willing participant in this… this… His mind struggled to find appropriate words for their slinky frottage.  
  
"Oh my god." Seamus turned to lie on his back, arching up toward Snape's busy, flickering tongue. "I had to ask, y'know," he said shakily, resuming his self-pleasure as Severus let his tail play in the curly hair at the base of Finnigan's cock. "I smelled your attraction to me, and I don't mind, really. You're a moody, rude bastard, but I bet you're amazing in bed."  
  
Severus was so startled by that unexpected admission and compliment that he nearly slid down Seamus' ribcage. Once Finnigan's praise had sunk in, however, Severus resumed his attentions with renewed fervour, sending out his tongue to lick his way up Seamus' neck to his ear.  
  
"You've no idea," Severus hissed, delighting in the fact that Finnigan thrashed in erotic bliss at the words in Parseltongue. "And as soon as I am able, I'll show you just how right you are."  
  
As though his potion had been infused with cosmic irony rather than powdered barnacle, just as he finished hissing the words, a jagged moulting feeling streaked through Severus. Seconds later, he found himself fully human, fully aroused, and fully clothed.  
  
Seamus made an "Ooof!"ing sound as he tried to dodge Severus' knee, placed dangerously at Seamus' nether region. There was a jumble of limbs and Severus' bony elbows and Seamus stuttering, "Prof- Professor Snape! You're back!"  
  
"You talk far too much," Severus growled, straddling the shocked young man so he could at last feel friction against his aching cock.  
  
"Oy, you couldn't talk back, and not saying anything would've been bizarre," Seamus retorted, his eyes widening as Severus drew out his wand.  
  
Severus smirked, grinding his erection against Seamus'. "And masturbating with a snake is perfectly normal." He cast a disrobing spell on himself before dropping his wand onto the neatly folded pile of clothes now on the floor.  
  
"Don't be a prick," Seamus fumed, anger clouding his formerly lusty expression. "You seemed keen enough before."  
  
A flurry of latent desires winged their way through Severus' cynicism, breaking out as he said, "I am, now, Finnigan."  
  
"Seamus, man; you're on top of me with your kit off!" Seamus said, grinding his hips against Severus' for emphasis.  
  
"Seamusssssss," Severus murmured in a manner reminiscent of his snake-self, leering as the young man dropped his head back on his pillow. Snape attacked the exposed throat with a ferocious tongue and Seamus moaned his appreciation. "It has been a while," Severus admitted before nibbling on Seamus' collarbone, "but I will do everything in my power to prove your suspicion correct."  
  
"Suspicion?" Seamus gasped, threading his fingers in Severus' hair as the man drew a wet circle around a dusky nipple.  
  
"That I'm good in bed." Severus worried the sensitized flesh in his teeth, relishing the panting noises above him.  
  
"Oh. Right. Oh yes," Seamus said, his words as ragged as his breathing.  
  
Severus needed no further encouragement. He licked and nipped his way down Seamus' torso, noticing the ropy white trails of scars criscrossing his ribs and abdomen, down even to the young man's right thigh. It was the cartography of a body much abused by close-range hexes, one which eerily mirrored his own.  
  
Seamus babbled a stream of adulations, hands over his head grasping at the edge of the mattress while Severus pulled off his boxers. As Severus kneeled between the muscular thighs, Seamus raised his hips like a supplicant. Severus eyed the hard cock in front of him, thinking briefly of how strangely delicate it appeared, the engorged flesh not nearly the size of his own. _All the better for fellatio_ , he mused before swiping wet stripes along the shaft, savouring the unique sensory miasma of musk and tang. After a few teasing moments, he fully swallowed Seamus' erection.  
  
"Saints of selkies!" Seamus yelled. Severus moved one hand to place it firmly on the Irishman's hip, but continued his merciless, lavish affections on Seamus' cock. Seamus writhed underneath him, straining to be taken ever deeper into Severus' hot mouth.  
  
"Snape! Merlin! You feel brilliant," Seamus moaned and Severus let out a rumbling laugh around the salty phallus. Sucking upward, he licked the head, releasing his prize and sitting back on his heels. Seamus let out a strangled, disappointed sound.  
  
"So glad to know I haven't lost my touch," Severus said in a throaty voice. "And I'd like to do more."  
  
Seamus, still breathing heavily and his boyish face deeply flushed with arousal, nodded his approval. "I'm all for that," he said enthusiastically before his gaze was drawn to Snape's handsomely endowed cock. "If you've got lube," he went on, looking back up at Severus. "You're hung like a fucking horse."  
  
A rare, transparent smile flitted over Severus' face. "I don't believe I have ever received a compliment phrased quite like that."  
  
"Nothing personal, but I reckon most people think you'd make their lives bloody miserable if they tried to be nice to you."  
  
Severus looked at Seamus with a piercing gaze. "They'd be right."  
  
Seamus gave that truism some thought, and Severus sensed that somehow he'd hurt Finnigan's feelings. More perplexing, however, was a faraway flicker of shame that he felt for having done so. Perhaps there was an attribute to being nonhuman for a period that was causing this disturbing emotion.  
  
_"Or maybe it's simply that he wasn't cruel to you, and he is the most delectable creature on two legs to have shown any interest you in an eternity,"_ said a voice in his head unnervingly reminiscent of Minerva McGonagall. _"Now reassure him and shag him senseless,"_ it added.  
  
Seamus' mood had most definitely taken a turn, his stormy lust having changed to sullenness. Thankfully, his body was slower to react.  
  
"Except for you, that is." Severus spoke carefully, his mouth out of practice forming words of truce. "I don't fathom why but I believe we'll get along, perhaps even without much torment."  
  
A lip curl on Seamus' mouth let Severus know he was gaining ground.  
  
"If you're still willing, I would very much like to summon some lubricant — infrequently-used, but having made it myself, I will attest to its effectiveness — and do such things to you as will make you pleasantly sore for days."  
  
Perhaps involuntarily, Seamus responded to Severus' proposal with a low sigh and clenched his buttocks. "Your voice is indecent," he said in mock exasperation. "Get whatever you need and then I reckon you should shag me right senseless."  
  
_"See? I told you!"_ the inner McGonagall chirruped.  
  
_"Go away, you old tart. I'm busy,"_ Severus' inner monologue replied good-naturedly.  
  
"I reckon I should," Severus growled before he pounced on the willing Irishman. They kissed roughly, tongues battling and scratchy beard-growth burning their chins. Seamus managed to roll Severus over, thrusting his hips into Severus' with fierce purpose, all while attacking the side of Severus' neck.  
  
"You, as that snake, sliding on me." Seamus panted into the damp skin at Severus' ear. "Never felt anything so fucking sexy."  
  
"Just you wait."  
  
Before surrendering all rational thought to his senses, Snape Accio'd a particular vial from downstairs, the lid removed.  
  
"Oh god, Snape, your voice," Seamus said hungrily, feasting on Severus' earlobe. "I think I could come just from that."  
  
"Well, we can't have that," Severus said, his voice smooth as oiled leather. "At least not this time. Up a bit, please."  
  
"Nnnnnnh," was the most articulate noise Seamus could make as he did as requested, until he took a sharp breath and stilled his pelvis.  
  
Severus had managed to coat his fingers (and no small portion of the bedspread) with his unguent, then drew a slick trail from Seamus' tailbone down the furrow of his arsecheeks. Severus carefully breached him, basking in his new lover's wordless sounds of pleasure. He eased two fingers into the tight muscles, then three — slowly, firmly, pressing and easing him open, all to Seamus' chorus of, "Gods, yes, want you"'s breathed hotly into Severus' hair.  
  
"Want me now?" Severus purred, sneaking his other hand under Seamus' arched torso to pluck at a tight nub.  
  
"Yes! Now, bloody hell," Seamus exhaled, squeezing his muscles against Severus' intruding fingers. Severus withdrew his hand, astonishing himself yet again by waiting to take the lead from Finnigan.  
  
Seamus manoeuvered off of Snape, looking meaningfully at the headboard and then over his shoulder. "Behind me, if it's all right with you," he said without an ounce of self-consciousness.  
  
"I'll hope this is more than just all right," Severus said moments later, on his knees behind Seamus, whose legs were spread wide and arse invitingly poised for the taking. Severus eased forward, restraining himself until Seamus suddenly pushed back, sheathing most of Severus' cock with a grunt.  
  
"S'more than all right," Seamus said, his voice tight. "Just give me a sec. Don't do this too oft-"  
  
"Ssssh," Severus chastised gently, taking Seamus' flagging erection in hand and establishing a slow rhythm like his heart at rest. It amazed Severus how well they fit, his lanky frame shadowing Seamus' stockier build. Musk and sweat and heat and affection swirled hazily around them like disturbed dust motes in a stripe of sun.  
  
"Oh, ohhhhhhh," Seamus moaned as he came, shuddering into Snape's hand and clutching on the bedframe for purchase. He hung his head, gasping for breath, tawny tendrils of hair sticking wetly to the back of his neck. Severus sped up his pace, feeling the telltale tightness gathering in his balls, savouring the tension as it built with the grasping friction of each thrust. His release tore through him and he held tightly to Seamus' hips, eyes squeezed shut.  
  
As Severus' passion ebbed away, the qualities of the small room stealthily reestablished themselves into his awareness. Included in those was an equally sated Seamus, now arching his back and flexing his fingers against the headboard. Severus pulled out of the young man, taking great care to be gentle as he did. He felt as though his bones had been liquified, but he forced himself to climb off the bed and fished about for his wand before casting a _Scourgify_ on both of them.  
  
"Thanks," Seamus said, sprawling on his back with a brief grimace. "Don't know that I'll spend a lot of time sitting today." He gave Severus a cheeky grin. "That was part of the plan, though, wasn't it?"  
  
Severus stood, awash in a prickly foreign sensation of uncertainty. Seamus glowed, basking in post-coital bliss Snape had never before witnessed with any of his former partners. _Pater Paracelsus,_ Severus pleaded, _Don't let him think that one good tryst — okay, one extraordinarily fantastic shag — means we're involved or something ludicrous._  
  
"Get in the bed," Seamus demanded, patting the spot beside him. "Y'know, most people seem a bit more cheery after bloody brilliant sex."  
  
Reluctantly, Severus returned to the warm sheets, grateful that Seamus didn't snuggle up next to him. Or did he want that? Obviously spending time as a snake had completely addled his heretofore impervious aloof persona. That, or there was something indefinably right about the brash young man, and for a time, at least, they might fit like jigsaw pieces put into place.  
  
"You can rest on me if you want," Severus found himself saying.  
  
Seamus turned his head, raising his eyebrows. "Are you quite sure you're all right?"  
  
Severus nodded, though he wasn't at all sure that was the case. He tried to think of a complicated potion, to retreat into familiar realms of measurements and scales, but to his consternation, the memory of how much he'd enjoyed pleasuring Seamus resolutely arose instead.  
  
"Don't fancy myself as much of a cuddler, really," Seamus said, letting his fingers brush through the thin trail of black hair on Severus' chest. "I make an unreal breakfast, though. How about I get that going and you can meet me in the kitchen? And don't worry," he said affectionately, circling one of Severus' nipples, causing the older man to sigh in response. "I'm not out to bloody marry you or anything. While you're not being a stand-offish prick, and we're stuck here together, I'm going to enjoy your company. Fair enough?"  
  
"I hadn't realised you'd been schooled in mind-reading," Severus said, awed despite himself.  
  
Seamus snorted. "You're not the first bloke I've seen look a bit panicky the morning after. I reckon I'm quite the catch, but I'm not ready to settle down yet. And, besides, you've had a hell of a day."  
  
" _That_ is an understatement."  
  
Rolling his eyes, Seamus leaned over to place a chaste kiss on Severus' lips. "I'm off to make coffee. I'm not human without it."  
  
Severus watched the play of expressions on Seamus' face as he realized the implications of what he'd said. "Speaking of inhuman, I suppose I should test your potion to see if it does the same thing to me."  
  
A sly smirk crossed Severus' mouth. "I don't suppose I should anticipate enjoying an inter-species romp similar to yours."  
  
"Only if you've got a thing for raccoons," Seamus retorted, swinging his legs off the bed and crossing the room to put on his clothes.  
  
"A prurient nocturnal creature," Severus mused, steepling his fingers with intrigue.  
  
"A what?" Seamus asked, wincing as he stretched down to retrieve his trousers off the floor.  
  
"Nothing." Severus gazed at an ink-stained knuckle. "In the interest of my research, I would be most grateful if you were willing to sample it as I did."  
  
"'Course." Seamus pulled on a fuscous woollen jumper before running his fingers through his dishevelled hair. "That's why I'm here. Glad that there are some unexpected benefits, though." He winked at Severus, who had decided he'd rather not allow his new companion free rein in the kitchen without some supervision.  
  
"As am I."  
  
Severus quickly donned his clothes and walked down the stairs, content for the time being to be caught up in Finnigan's wake.

*** * * * ***


End file.
